Live For This

by Kathryn R. Biel

  “I’ve never felt this way before. It’s … scary.”

  “Good scary?”

  “Wonderful scary.” She lifts her head up and gently kisses my cheek, right under the tube for the oxygen. I never want to let her go. “Michael, we’re … I’m,” she stutters and lets a deep breath out. “I’m still not sure how things will work. Like, with me. Because I’m damaged goods, you know?”

  “Samirah, in case you didn’t notice, I’m sort of broken too. And really, I’ve never really done this with this body either. But, I’d say, based on my current state of affairs, we’ve got time to move slowly and take it slow. You have to know that I’d never do anything to pressure you or make you feel uncomfortable. We’ll figure it out.”

  She kisses me again, this time on my lips. Slow and gentle. “Why are you so good to me? Why did you stop and help me out in the first place?”

  I’ve thought about this often. “Because instead of needing and receiving help, I was, for once, able to give it. You needing me made me feel whole.”

  “If you had been whole, I wouldn’t have let you help me. I only went with you because I figured you couldn’t hurt me. Now I know I was wrong. So wrong.”

  “Wrong? How can I hurt you? You have to know I will never hurt you Samirah.”

  “When I thought you were dead, it was a pain like nothing—and I mean nothing—I’d ever felt.”

  “That’s because you love me.” I hold onto her as tightly as I can, so she can feel how much I love her too.

  “Yes, that I do.”

  “And I love you, and our love is worth living for, isn’t it?”

  “Your love makes me whole.”

  EPILOGUE: SAMIRAH

  Waking up, I’m not sure where I am. It’s been awhile since I’ve had this feeling. The surroundings are unfamiliar. The scents foreign. And I’m alone. Which I don’t think I should be.

  And then I remember.

  It all comes rushing back, flooding my mind.

  It’s over. All of it is over. Yesterday, eight months after first going to the police station, Chase, Scott, and Todd signed the plea deal. The trial was due to start in two weeks. I came down to be in court while they officially plead guilty. None of them could even look at me. Meadow came to the court room. Apparently she and Scott had rekindled their romance. She didn’t believe for a moment he was guilty, until she heard the words come out of his mouth. Then, she wanted to make up with me. As if.

  I don’t know why they decided to plead now. My guess is they didn’t want the media coverage, which was looking to be sizable. The morning news shows had covered the story, as had most media outlets. People Magazine even ran a story about it. Big Apple Babies went on hiatus, and when it came back, Grace and Chase were no longer on the show. She filed for divorce.

  Good for her.

  Rumor has it that she’s the reason Chase turned state’s evidence to begin with. He has already copped a deal in exchange for his testimony against the other two. I was so pissed when I found that out. Chase was the one who drugged me. Chase was the one who was supposed to look out for me. Chase never looked out for anyone but himself. Well, he’s on his own in Sing Sing now.

  Grace contacted me last night. I went out to Long Island, to her home there. She’s already sold the place in which she and Chase lived. As I suspected, all of the money is hers. Her family is loaded. Over drinks—non-alcoholic for me and lots of alcohol for her—she told me she’s not sure Chase ever loved her. She’s pretty sure he was using her for her money and connections. I’m pretty sure she’s right.

  There was a lot of crying on both our parts. Discussing what the future holds, not only for Grace and Arabella, but for me as well. Grace could not believe how well I’m doing. How happy I seem, despite everything going on.

  That being said, I’m happy that this is over and we won’t be going to trial. No matter how much I thought I was ready for it, I know you never really can be. I know that my lifestyle would have been put on trial. I’m not proud of who I was, but I’m proud of who I’m becoming.

  I pack my bags quickly and check out of the hotel. I’ve had enough of this city and never want to come back. It will forever represent a time in my life that I hope to forget. Not just the rape but my behavior. What a poor excuse for a person I was.

  On the other hand, my time here set me on my current path. My repurposing business, Wheeling Dealers, has started taking off in the last few months. I no longer work for Salinger Homes. I spend my days combing estate sales and garage sales and antique shops, looking for treasures. I’ve taken on a small client base and have started doing home shows. Nikki sends me tons of referrals.

  She’s become one of my closest friends. As I get off the train in Rensselaer, it is she who meets me. I’m staying at her place tonight.

  After all, it is bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding. And we’ve both had enough bad luck in our lives. We don’t need to tempt fate.

  Our wedding will be small. It’s not like I have much family. A few cousins. That’s it. I’d like to be in a place where I could invite my father—where we had a relationship and I wanted him there—but I’m not ready. Reaching out, trying to understand and forgive him—that’s a future challenge. It would be nice to have family that loves me, that supports me. I’m getting that, in the Salingers.

  Nikki is my maid of honor, and Mitchell will, of course, be Michael’s best man. That’s it for our wedding party. We’re getting married in an old barn. I’ve worked closely with Intuition Events to make our day exactly what we want.

  My dress is short. Well, short for a wedding gown. It’s a blush ivory satin with a deep V-neck. The skirt is tulle and is a bit longer in the back than in the front. I didn’t want anything long or with a train, since that tends to get caught under Michael’s wheels. Michael will be wearing tan pants with an aqua checked shirt, yellow bow tie, and white suspenders. No suit coat for him. He said he’d wear one but I know it’s not comfortable for him in his wheelchair.

  The hairdresser piles my hair on top of my head in some elaborate configuration. I stare at the ring on my hand. Obviously, I knew he had good taste in rings. This is beyond anything I could imagine. A vintage rose gold setting with a round diamond, surrounded by tiny seed diamonds. It’s perfect. I look up from my hand to see my hair finished. Small yellow and white flowers are tucked in here and there, peeping out. There’s so much to do before our four-thirty ceremony, but I can’t wait for the minutes to pass. They tick by with agonizing slowness. I can’t wait to see Michael. It’s been four days.

  He offered to come to New York with me. The timing of the plea deal was a blessing and a curse. It was difficult getting the last-minute wedding details done. On the other hand, we can start out new lives together with a blank slate. Nothing hanging over us.

  Nikki does my makeup so I look like me. I have to laugh at that one. I used to spend hours and hours putting on my face and hair, just to go out to a club. When I look at pictures from that time, I barely recognize myself. It’s no wonder. I didn’t know who I was back then.

  I’ve found me. And I like me.

  I put on my mom’s pearl earrings and bracelet. I know she wore them on the day she married my dad. She loved him, and marrying him made her happy. I can now relate to that beaming woman in the picture that sits on our dresser.

  Nikki’s ready in her soft yellow chiffon bridesmaid’s dress. The ruched top with a sweetheart neckline and one strap of rosettes sets off her caramel features perfectly. Mitchell’s gonna die when he sees her. Over the past few months, there’s been a definite flirtation between the two of them and, if I have anything to say about it, Michael and I aren’t going to be the only ones experiencing bliss tonight.

  The antique car picks us up and drives us to the barn. The flowers, pale and muted pastels in corals, peaches, yellows, ivories, and aquas, take my breath away. This is so much more than I even imagined. Though I know it’s in vogue to do ‘
first look’ pictures, I want the first time Michael sees me to be when I’m walking down the aisle toward him.

  And as soon as I see him at the end of the aisle, I’m overcome.

  He is the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. I knew he’d look good, but I had no idea. His dark hair is a little longer than when we met, but so unbelievably sexy. His eyes are filled with tears, which makes mine fill up as well. Before I know it, I’m at the end of the aisle, and Mr. Salinger is pulling up a chair for me to sit in, as planned. We didn’t get a real rehearsal because of the trial stuff, but it’ll be fine.

  At the end of this night, I’ll be Michael’s forever, so nothing else matters. The barn could fall down for all I care.

  We’ve written our own vows. I’ve never been one for public speaking, so I’m glad Michael goes first.

  “Samirah, my love, life has not always been fair. It’s handed us our share of ups and downs. But each trial and tribulation has strengthened us, both as individuals and as one. I promise to love you with everything I have for every day that I walk—er, roll—on this earth.”

  That garners a snicker from the guests and I smile. He makes me smile every day. Another thing I love about him. He continues. “I will be everything I can for you and do whatever I can to let you know, everyday, that you are loved, and you are valued, and that you are worth living for.”

  “Michael, we’re not the perfect couple. We found each other at the most imperfect of times. But today, I promise you that I will stay by you every day for the rest of forever. And I know you can’t walk this journey with me. All I ask is that you hold my hand and stay by my side, as I hold your hand and stay by your side. When we found each other, your body was broken, and my soul was shattered. Together, we’ve made each other whole. So, please, take my hand. Hold my hand. Stay by my side, and love me forever, as I will love you forever.”

  The pastor pronounces us husband and wife. Michael leans in and kisses me, no longer afraid to touch me. I’m no longer afraid of his touch; rather I need it more than I need oxygen.

  We turn and face our loved ones. He pulls me down onto his lap and kisses me again. He wheels me down the aisle not only to start our reception, but to begin our lives together.

  Once two pieces, now one whole. Forever.

  THE END

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  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Okay, Michele Vagianelis, this is the last time I’m going to acknowledge you. Not really. There isn’t enough thanks in the world.

  My beta readers: Becky Monson, Karan Eleni, Tracy Krimmer, Grace Heinrich, Cahren Morris, and Mary Rose Kopach—thank you for all your amazing feedback and support.

  Karan Eleni, you came through with the cover I’d imagined. I don’t think I even made you twitchy. I’ll try harder next time.

  Becky and Wendy, we’re so going on tour. Someday soon. With lots of chocolate and a Sven. And Becky STILL owes me cookies.

  Thank you Karen Pirozzi for being my editor extraordinaire. I’m so lucky to have found you, and thank you Marlene Engle for finding those last little mistakes.

  My writing groups, both online and in person, have helped me grow so much. I know I’d never have six full-length novels published without the help of ChickLitChatHQ, Writing Wenches, and Albany NaNoWriMo. Not to mention all those sundaes from Denny’s.

  I hope that my children, husband, and parents continue to be proud of me. Without their love and support, none of this would be possible.

  A big thanks to my readers. When I published my first novel almost three years ago, I never dreamt that people I didn’t know would be reading my books. Thank you to each and every one of you.

  A special thanks to those brave women who shared some intimate details with me about what it means to be a survivor of sexual abuse. Thank you for your candor and honesty. I hope I did you justice, and that others can find strength in your courage.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Telling stories of resilient women, Kathryn Biel hails from upstate New York and is a spouse and mother of two wonderful and energetic kids. In between being Chief Home Officer and Director of Child Development of the Biel household, she works as a school-based physical therapist. She attended Boston University and received her Doctorate in Physical Therapy from The Sage Colleges. After years of writing countless letters of medical necessity for wheelchairs, finding increasingly creative ways to encourage the government and insurance companies to fund her clients’ needs, and writing entertaining annual Christmas letters, she decided to take a shot at writing the kind of novel that she likes to read. Her musings and rants can be found on her personal blog, Biel Blather. She is the author of Good Intentions (2013), Hold Her Down (2014), I’m Still Here (2014), Jump, Jive, and Wail (2015), Killing Me Softly (2015), and Completions and Connections: A Romantic Holiday Novella (2015).

  If you’ve enjoyed this book, please help the author out by leaving a review on Amazon and Goodreads. A few minutes of your time makes a huge difference to an indie author!

  Connect with Kathryn:

  Amazon Author Central: http://bit.ly/KRBAuthCentral

  Blog: http://kathrynbiel.blogspot.com

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kathrynrbiel

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/KRBiel

  Goodreads: http://bit.ly/KRBgoodreads

  E-mail: kathrynbiel@outlook.com